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10/27/2014

Story Orgy Presents: Prince Charming #mmromance #storyorgy

Two new characters, an all new story. Well, not quite all new. Someone or two of you might recognize at its core a flash piece I wrote some time ago.

Prince Charmingcopyright October @ Lee Brazil

Chapter One

“He reluctantly handed over”

Cold wetness seeped through the denim of my
jeans, creating a trail of icy goose bumps all across my body.

"Sorry." A strong, tanned hand dusted
with fine dark hairs and blunt cut nails hovered in my field of vision. The
tail end of what turned out to be a long, dramatic swirling tattoo just touched
his wrist.

I stared, bemused. The hand wavered, then
withdrew.

"Are you all right?"

Allowing my gaze to expand beyond the hand,
which I suddenly couldn't believe I hadn't accepted, my jaw dropped. The man
who'd crashed into me belonged anywhere on campus but barreling through
the Language Arts department office door. He was young, broad, golden in hair
and skin. A whole aura of Prince Charming hung about him, and my fingers
suddenly itched to pick up a pencil and transcribe sonnets to his beauty and a
character that I just knew was as lovely as his person. "I'm
okay." And so I would be, just as soon as my heart stopped racing and my
vision returned to normal, because right now it seemed that somehow landing in a
mop bucket on my ass had caused me to see blurred golden halos and narrowed my
vision to a tiny circumference centered exactly on his concerned face.

He stood watching as I awkwardly fumbled my way
out of the water, grimacing as the liquid dripped down my body. I had to give
him credit though, true to the noble character my imagination had imbued him
with, he didn't laugh at my predicament. I stood before him pretending to a sang
froid that I had never felt in my life. Recalling that he had come from my
office, I ventured to address the Prince. "Is there something I can assist
you with?" I was late, having lost track of time in the upper rooms of the
library, pouring over a volume of fifteenth century French poetry. I had
interviews scheduled for interns for the fall semester, and I couldn't decide
whether to hope he was or wasn't one of the candidates.

"Yeah," he breathed softly. Then
before I had a moment to realize what he was about, soft plump lips brushed
over mine, and a delicate tongue swiped a tender touch over my lips before he
retreated. "I had an interview scheduled, but I think I changed my mind. I
don't want the job."

Stunned, I wrestled the demon of desire his kiss
had unleashed back under control. He wasn't a prince, but a demon sent straight
from hell to tempt me to indiscretion. "You can have the job too." I
heard the words, and couldn't believe they'd come from my mouth. No fucking way
I wanted this man for my intern. And no way he could miss the implication, I
was his for the taking.

Smiling gently, he combed his hand through my
hair and cupped my cheek. "Oh hell no. No need to complicate the power
dynamic between us."

"Then I have interviews."

"I'll wait."

“Um…” Wait? He was going to wait? For me? For
what? “They could take all afternoon.” I licked my lips, tasting him there.
Stifling a whimper, I shifted foot to foot.

“Hey, I don’t have anything else to do. Why
don’t you go on and clean up?” The Prince nodded at the empty secretary’s desk
behind me. “I’ll tell whoever comes for your next appointment that you’re
detained for a minute.”

“I…” Was uncomfortable as hell. “Thank you.”
Forcing myself to pass by The Prince without looking back over my shoulder was
difficult. As in finding the Holy Grail difficult. Slaying dragons difficult.
Fuck it. I sneaked a peek and caught him watching me, eyeing my ass as though
it were something special. It wasn’t. I couldn’t ever lay any claim ot physical
fitness, not like this paragon of masculinity. I had muscles, but mostly by
default, from climbing stairs and racing around lost or tardy. Every year I
resolved to join a gym and work out, or take up jogging or biking. Something
physically active. But the bottom line was, I had never pursued fitness beyond
actually joining a gym.

I had a huge collection of gym membership cards,
but none of them had ever seen any action. Kind of like me.

“Yes?”

Startled back to awareness, I spun back around
and headed into my office, my inner sanctum, my hidey hole, shutting the door
firmly behind me. The soft chuckle I heard on the other side of the door wasn’t
malicious or unkind. It didn’t remind me of the mocking laughter of my
classmates decades earlier or the wicked humor some of my students displayed. I’d been the butt
of enough cruel jokes over the years to recognize that when I heard it.

This laughter was heart warming and arousing. It
reminded me of the soothing hugs my mother had given, the tender promise of
support and understanding.

Fortunately for me, clumsiness was a common
enough occurrence that I did indeed have a change of clothes in my office.
Clean jeans and a dry t-shirt were folded on the bookshelf, under a copy of
Chaucer that I’d had since my own undergraduate days, a gift from a favorite
professor. One who had perhaps been more of a hindrance than a help, though I’d
had the biggest crush on him at the time of our liaison.

In fact, Jay Sinclair was probably the basis for
my reluctance to take this Prince on as an intern. I’d been in that position,
sleeping with someone who was in a position of authority over me. We’d both
claimed that it wouldn’t affect our professional relationship...but it had. How
could it not? It was actually a relief that the golden prince didn’t expect to
work with me.

I couldn’t imagine anything more guaranteed to
distract me from my work than that beautiful tanned skin, those thick
muscles...Damn it!

A sharp rap on the door drew me back from the
lure of his body. His...I hadn’t even had the forethought to get his name! My
potential new lover…

Scratch that. His intent had been clear. My new
lover had to go by some name, other than Prince. The knock sounded again.
Grimacing, I yanked the door open and met his amused gaze. “What’s your name,
anyway?” I demanded.

“Lucas Thorne.” He handed me a stack of papers.
“I took the liberty of removing my resume from that pile. You won’t need it.
Also, your second appointment is late, so I’ll inform him when he gets here
that he is out of the running.”

“Oh.” I glanced down at the papers, without
seeing them. I knew breaking eye contact was just a ploy, a lame attempt to
disguise the way my heart had tripped at his commanding attitude, the way he
just took charge and assumed that of course I wouldn’t want to hire a man who
was tardy to his interview.

Punctuality was probably a good thing, but I’d
never before felt qualified to criticize anyone on that aspect of their
performance, as I myself was notoriously loose with times. “Er…” Lucas probably
should know that about me before he decided that we were going to do this
thing, shouldn't he?

“You haven't changed yet,” he chided. “Go on.”
He accompanied the words with another one of those poetic little smiles that
made my brain freeze and my belly burn.

“Yes.” I stumbled backward into the office, and
Lucas closed the door again. This time, I forced myself to change, but the
whole while that I was stripping off the wet jeans and underwear and replacing
them with the clean dry ones, my ears strained to catch any hints to what
activities were occurring in the outer office. Like a teenager, I craved the
sound of his voice already, and every time I thought I heard the deep tones, my
heart throbbed in the back of my throat.

This couldn't really be happening to me, could
it?

Hot young men didn’t just...claim me.

I wasn’t the type to attract a lot of attention,
on the short side of average, the thin side of fit, the … boring side of
intellectual. Not that he could know that, because all I’d managed was to sound
like an idiot when we spoke anyway.

He knocked on the door again, and this time I
was ready. “Come in.”I called, kicking my wet clothes under the desk.

“I’ve explained to Simon that you aren’t
interested in an intern who cannot tell time, but he insists on hearing it from
you. Would you mind?” The charming smile wasn’t in evidence now. His voice was
steely and resolved, and his shoulders tense. I was suddenly determined to do
whatever was necessary to bring back the relaxed, pleasant smile, the air of
easy going authority.

“Certainly.” Brushing my hands together, I
approached the doorway. Lucas held his position long enough that I brushed
against him. The heat of his body was stunning, even through our clothes I
could feel a fingle of awareness, just zipping through me. It went straight to
my most sensitive spots, tickling at the back of my balls, tightening my throat
and belly. I gasped, shocked at the rawness of the feelings, the overwhelming
power of that brief touch.

Lucas fell back, extending a hand to indicate a
young man standing by the desk, fairly bristling with resentment. I blinked at
him, probably much like an owl or a mole caught in the headlights of a car as
it crosses the road “You’re um…” My scrambled brains fought to recall the name
of the man. Lucas had just mentioned it, hadn’t he? “Simon?”

“I have an appointment for an interview. I came
a long way.” He cast an angry glance at Lucas, and it was my turn to bristle.

“As Lucas just told you, I don’t have any need
for an intern who isn’t punctual.” I was proud of the way the words sounded,
calm, logical. The truth was I felt far from either. If it hadn’t been for the
stern expression on Lucas’s lovely face, I’d have hired the man on the spot
just to have the tedious chore over with so I could be alone with Lucas again.

“I’m not that late.” Simon argued, and suddenly
I lost all patience.

“You’re too late. And my next appointment is due
in just a few minutes. If I interviewed you now, then every one of my interviews
will be late.” Sourly, I offered a compromise that I didn’t really like. “If
you wait until the last of the interviews, and none of them suit me, then I’ll
interview you .”

Somehow, I'm not entirely sure just how, whether
he manhandled Simon or just outmaneuvered him, Lucas had the man on the other
side of the door before I realized what was happening. I blinked at him,
suddenly sure that the absolute best candidate for the job was standing in
front of me. “Are you sure you don’t want this job?” I reluctantly offered.

“Positive.” He stepped back in close, not even
bothering to close the door or hide his intent. Again, our lips met, and this
time the kiss was longer, more … everything. Our teeth actually clinked
together, my lips felt hot and bruised, and …

I was hiring the next damn person that walked
through that door, just so Lucas and I could go explore this lust in greater
depth.

Chapter Two

He was stunned.

He was stunned. I could tell by the way his jaw
hung slightly open and his gaze wandered from me to the office door, which had
just closed behind one Esme Cortez, my brand new intern for the next semester.
“You...did you even look at her resume?” He demanded.

“Yes,” Just long enough to find her name and
ascertain that she was indeed a Masters candidate at the school. “Can we go
now?”

His blue eyes lingered on the door. A frown drew
thick brows together. My heart faltered in its frantic race to beat its way out
of my breast. He was… displeased?

The urge to appease took over me, I began to
tremble. “I--”

“We’ll see how she does.” He turned back to me,
caught my hand. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Shaking my head, I dismissed the instinct to
cower. Visions of a glowering face, the faintest echoes my father’s angry voice
faded. This wasn’t like that. I hadn’t… He wasn’t…

“Professor? Don?” He snapped his fingers in
front of my face and I pushed those memories away, buried them as deeply as I
could, behind music that I loved and books that had saved me from moments of
terror, behind smiles that were freely shared with strangers and years of academic life
that were not soaked in fear.

“Yes, Lucas… Where should we go?” A new fear
appeared… Didn’t they always? What if we weren’t compatible? If he say...liked
hanging out at sports bars or the club scene?

Of course he wasn’t going to suggest some frat
boy hangout. He’s an English major, dumbass. “Sure.” I tried playing off
suave again, but the closest I could get to that was Maxwell Smart. James Bond
was a dream life away. “Did you drive over?”

“I can follow you…”

If I let him go, he’d have the opportunity to
change his mind, to realize how ridiculous it was for him to want me. “I’m
parked in the faculty lot.” I patted down my pockets, searching for the keys to my Audi, conscious of his gaze on
me as I did. “I can give you a lift to your car and you can follow me home from
there.”

TO BE CONTINUED

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Be Yourself

To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting. ~e.e. cummings, 1955